


All your cities I will burn

by glossary



Category: Jupiter Ascending (2015)
Genre: Bisexuality, Crush at First Sight, F/F, F/M, Female Caine, Genderbending, Masturbation, Puppy Love, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 14:50:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4923769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glossary/pseuds/glossary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“If you started seeing a certain person everywhere,” Jupiter began, and then stopped because in no possible universe would a sane human being follow Vladie around: mostly he sat in the backyard and smoked weed, and sometimes he borrowed forty bucks from his mum to get an alley blowjob from one of the hookers who did him the favour out of freaky maternal fondness and, she supposed, a certain inclination for his dick. “If someone you knew started seeing a certain person everywhere,” she compromised, “what would be your advice?”<br/>Vladie stared at her.  “Are you being stalked by a serial killer?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	All your cities I will burn

“If you started seeing a certain person everywhere,” Jupiter began, and then stopped because in no possible universe would a sane human being follow Vladie around: mostly he sat in the backyard and smoked weed, and sometimes he borrowed forty bucks from his mum to get an alley blowjob from one of the hookers who did him the favour out of freaky maternal fondness and, she supposed, a certain inclination for his dick. “If someone you knew started seeing a certain person everywhere,” she compromised, “what would be your advice?”

Vladie stared at her.  “Are you being stalked by a serial killer?”

“No,” said Jupiter with a touch of defensiveness that came absolutely out of nowhere. She was kind of an awful liar.

“I’ve told you,” said Vladie furiously, getting up from the sofa. “I’ve _told you_ – stay away from the mob! Did they offer you money—shit, did you _take it_ —”

“It’s got nothing to do with the mob,” said Jupiter impatiently, grabbing his arm to force him to sit down again. Anyway, when she was seventeen she’d had a boyfriend whose uncle was a mob boss and her mother had threatened her with a frying pan; she’d learnt her lesson. “It’s nothing weird, or anything... I think.”

Vladie squinted at her.

“If you tell my mum about this,” said Jupiter quietly, “I will end you.”

But talking to him about it at all had been a mistake, and she could see it clearly. During dinner he kept opening and closing his mouth and glancing unsurely at his mashed potatoes. Aunt Nino squinted at him, tapping her fork against her mouth. A drop of sauce smeared her cheek, like a Jackson Pollock painting.

“Vladie, you look distracted,” she said, and then in Russian and quick like bullets: “Are you in love? Is she a Cancer? Cancers aren’t good for you, I’ve told you a million times – look at him, he isn’t eating, she’s a parasite on his passion—”

“We speak English in this house,” said Uncle.

Jupiter’s mother huffed.

It wasn’t anything… _worrisome_ , she was sure, but it was strange. The first time, Jupiter was walking out of the flat of her on-again, off-again friend with benefits, grumpy because of the latest fight. He wanted to get exclusive in that way that meant moving in together and buying a cat, and while Jupiter couldn’t deny how good it sounded to have a room of her own and the ability to have sex unmolested in the kitchen if she so chose, she rather preferred dogs and knew, intimately and heartbreakingly, that their relationship wouldn’t go anywhere. He was a nice boy, all scruffy dark hair and a voluptuous mouth that made her a little reckless on their best days, but after they were done in bed she never felt like a delicious contentment settled over her. She didn’t know much about love, but she knew what the aftermath of its loss looked like (thinking about her mother and her empty, hollow quiet on a certain day, her father’s death’s anniversary). It wasn’t going to come from him.

She’d forgotten her underwear and it felt kind of weird to be wearing jeans without any knickers under, but at least she had her bra stuffed into her bag – which was neat, because shopping for underwear was a tiresome endeavour – and the woman was standing under a lamppost, hands stuffed into the pockets of a brown leather jacket. Jupiter glanced at her out of absent-minded curiosity, and then looked again because she was _gorgeous_ , her fine hair cut haphazardly around chin-length and dark sweet eyes, a touch mournful. Her face, solemn below that awful fringe, revealed a clumsy vulnerability that felt at odds with the tight-fitting trousers and the heavy combat boots.

Jupiter thought _huh_ , and was immediately embarrassed because she had had an orgasm less than an hour ago. She still smiled at the woman, though, a little sheepish but good-natured – and then shifted her focus to the street, checking to see if it was safe to cross, so she missed the woman’s startled expression and the hot blush that crawled across her ears.

The second time it was at the grocery store, bickering with a middle aged woman for the last carton milk. The lady had that awful haircut – the one that said “I want to speak to the manager” – and a sulky little boy clutching her knees, and as she got angrier her voice rose. Jupiter hated being yelled at, and this was getting old fast.

“It’s my milk,” she told the woman.

“I just went to check something else in the next corridor, for god’s sake,” said the lady. The pair of big sunglasses she had perched on her forehead slid a little and she took them off impatiently. “Look, dear, I don’t have time for this. Whatever terrible alcoholic mix you’re going to make, I’m sure it’ll be good enough if you put orange juice instead.” And extending a hand as if it was a given that Jupiter would obey in the face of such a flattering argument: “Well?”

Jupiter hated to be yelled at, but if there was something she hated more it was getting angry. Her fingers and the nape of her neck prickled, and she was just straightening her posture to launch herself into a beautiful tirade that would end in a pointed _fuck off_ when the woman in the leather jacket appeared behind the middle aged lady. She wasn’t wearing the leather jacket this time, though, and under the fluorescent lights the swell of her breasts and her hips were a delight to look at – her throat looked shockingly bare. She stepped past the angry lady and settled a little behind Jupiter, who turned towards her – but no words were spoken, because the woman was just staring at the angry lady.

Remembering her old boyfriend with the uncle who was a mob boss, Jupiter had to admit he would’ve admired the show – the woman’s shoulders were set, the definition in her somehow suddenly grabbing a lot of attention. The angry lady took a step back, pressed her lips together and rubbed a hand over her forehead.

“I’ll just take my business elsewhere, then,” she said with stilted dignity.

Jupiter couldn’t help herself. “Maybe try the orange juice.”

With a sniff, the angry lady picked up her sulky child, who was beginning to screw up his face in the warning signs of a crying jag, and they disappeared, leaving behind the angry lady’s shopping cart. Jupiter pushed it aside with a foot and placed the carton milk of discord inside her plastic basket. The woman hadn’t moved, not at all, not even when Jupiter’s shuffling placed them much closer than was usual – she had cheekbones like a Scandinavian model, and yet all that quiet ferocity she’d displayed melted away in seconds, leaving behind a bashful-looking girl who averted her eyes when Jupiter smiled at her.

“Hey,” said Jupiter, grinning. “Hey, thanks for that. You were cool back there.” And a fight would have definitely soured her mood for the day, resulting in another snippy talk with her mother over dinner, which – yeah, not her idea of a good time.

The woman hesitated, tilting her head down a little and gazing at Jupiter in tiny quick glances. “That’s okay,” she said, low, shy. Her voice was huskier than Jupiter had expected, and it simultaneously fit her really well.

A glance at her watch told Jupiter that she was going to be late unless she hurried, so she flashed the woman another smile and hurried towards the corridor that had all the rice. Their arms bumped a little, nothing aggressive about it, and Jupiter skipped away, laughing.

“Sorry!” she called over her shoulder. The woman shrugged kind of awkwardly – like she’d had to remind herself to move, rooted to her place. Jupiter picked up the rice and a box of cereal bars, and even though she looked around while the cashier registered her purchases, she didn’t see the woman around. Stifling a prickle of disappointment – obviously the woman lived in the area, if they’d met twice already – Jupiter went home, helped her mother and aunts cook like a good girl, and got into a passionate fight with Moltka over who would win in a fight between Aquaman and Elsa.

The next few times weren’t anything as obvious, and Jupiter didn’t linger on it because suddenly her life seemed to be going up in flames. She’d spent her last pay on buying some Astronomy books which she’d hidden under her mattress, but her mother had had a cleaning attack and found them. There was a disastrous fight where everybody ended up yelling in the dining room, her mother shaking the offending books like they were cheap pornography and Jupiter a fifteen year old boy.

“What’s the matter with you?” Jupiter shrieked. “They’re just books – it’s _my_ money!”

“I am your mother!” said Jupiter’s mum sharply. “Do not talk to your mother like that! Spend your money on useful things – things that help you in life. Not foolish books like these!”

“They’re not foolish,” snapped Jupiter, shaking. Aunt Nino had a hand covering her eyes, like she’d given up mediating this last fight, but Moltka and Vladie – sitting next to each other in the sofa, eyes wide as plates – seemed to be having a good time. “Astronomy is a _science_ –”

“Irrelevant to _you_ ,” her mum shot back, not skipping a beat. “Important to scientists who research. Do you research, Jupiter? Do you have job at university your family does not know about? Do you write paper after cleaning shift?”

“Not _everything_ has to be about a job, I want to know things so I got them, why do you always―”

“Aleksa,” Aunt Nino tried. “Aleksa, I really think―”

“Why do I _always?_ Because you _never_ , you foolish child, I worry and worry and you―”

“It’s _my_ money! At least I’m not spending it on – on booze or drugs or―”

Vladie looked shifty. “Hey, Aunt Aleksa, maybe you should―”

“You be quiet,” Jupiter’s mum roared. “Be quiet!” She shook her finger at Vladie. “Don’t think I don’t know, you scoundrel―”

As usual, Vladie’s mum came to the rescue, detaching herself from Jupiter’s uncle’s side like the good little wife she was, hands planted on her hips. “Excuse me, Aleksa? Excuse me? Vladie is a good boy, nothing like your―”

“Do not talk to me about my daughter!”

“Do not talk about _my_ son―”

Aunt Nino sat down, hands covering her face. Jupiter’s uncle got sick of the fight by then, stood in the middle of the room and began yelling at everyone to shut up, but Jupiter’s mum and aunt ignored him. Their argument had degenerated into Russian and Jupiter’s mum was threatening her aunt with a latke, and somehow was managing to make it sound really terrifying.

“Better than Fox,” Moltka said, and Aunt Nino took his hand and ushered him upstairs, deaf to his complaints.

In the end, Jupiter got to keep her books, but there was a fragile kind of peace in the house. For the hundredth time, she imagined what it would be like to have her own place, her own room where to sleep and fuck and eat until she got fat and old. She locked herself in the bathroom, turned on the radio and upped the volume until she couldn’t hear her cousin knocking with all the grim determination of someone who’s had to share the bathroom all her life, and soaked for a while in the bathtub, eyes closed, the cloud of her dark hair drifting. Eventually the water got colder and the music got less interesting, but there was still a knot of frustration in Jupiter’s belly and, angry and unkind with herself, she shoved her legs apart, knees knocking against the edges of the tub. It throbbed, and then her fingers found her own entrance and the throb spread everywhere, a liquid heat like a wave lapping shore. A deep breath, and her breasts lifted out of the water. A shudder ran through her.

She thought about the woman. She couldn’t help it – like a fever it bloomed, tight and painful and so good, and then her fingers pushed deeper. Deeper still. Her orgasm shot through her like a rocket, and the radio turned off with a sudden crackle – out of batteries, probably. Jupiter exhaled in the sudden quiet, limp and satisfied.

“Get the fuck out already!” someone yelled outside. 

Jupiter sank underwater, holding her breath.


End file.
